


It Could Never Be Easy

by leggywillow



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:29:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1242901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leggywillow/pseuds/leggywillow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a collection of short drabbles I've written about Carver Hawke and his relationship with Aerie Surana.  No overarching plot or connection, just short bits of angst and fluff and what-have-you.  Probably not in any kind of order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fear of Being Forgotten

“Is it gonna hurt?” somebody asked. It took Carver a minute to realize that the cracked, pitifully weak voice was his own.

Stroud didn’t answer him, but one of the other Grey Wardens did. Carver hadn’t learned his name, but he seemed more sympathetic than the rest to the disoriented, dying boy they had pulled out of the Deep Roads. “It might, lad. I’m sorry.”

Carver tried to set his jaw and nod in a manly sort of way, like he wasn’t terrified. After everything, after Anders had taken them out of their way in search of these Wardens, it looked like he might die anyway. He tried not to see it as his sister abandoning him to die alone with strangers. It wasn’t like that; it was just her taking matters into her own stupid bossy hands as usual and dragging Carver along with her.

He wondered what she was going to tell Mother when she returned to Kirkwall without him, with no knowledge of whether her little brother was alive or dead. He wondered how long it would take them to stop caring entirely and forget all about him. His sister would continue on her own glorious path, already known all around town as the Hawke, as if there was only one of them. No one else in Kirkwall was going to remember the scowling brother who used to lurk at her back. A Hawke, but not the Hawke.

The friendly Warden patted his shoulder. “It’s time.”

Carver tried to focus his eyes on the goblet in Stroud’s hands, hoping he didn’t look as frightened as he felt. His memory wasn’t going to last very long for many people, but maybe this small band of Grey Wardens would at least remember him as brave.


	2. Gala

Aerie tried not to pull at the collar of her gown, the soft rose fabric dipping into a lower neckline than she usually wore.  The tight lacing of the dress did a bit to make it appear as though she had a figure worth being displayed with a very low collar, but it still left her feeling a little like a child playing dress-up.   She wished that Alistair hadn’t invited her to this awful party, though she understood the need for a Grey Warden presence.  For better or worse (and for all their now-false claims of neutrality), the Warden Commander was also the Arl of Amaranthine.  Unfortunately, the affairs of Fereldan nobility were now also the affairs of the Fereldan Grey Wardens.

At least she hadn’t been forced to come alone.  Alistair told her to invite as many Wardens as she wished, and she wondered if he had forgotten that Oghren was now a Grey Warden as well.  He was going to remember _now_ , once Oghren barreled his way to the alcohol.  Nathaniel had very firmly refused to make an appearance, and Aerie didn’t blame him.  He would repair the Howe name with time, but it was not ready to face the gathered nobility at a Satinalia party.

A few of the junior wardens had been excited about accepting the invitation, though Carver had taken a lot of cajoling.  To be fair, it took a lot of cajoling to get him to do anything at all.

She rapped on the door to his room, and when he opened it, he stared at her chest.  When she cleared her throat, he met her eyes with an abashed expression.  Aerie grinned at him.  “And here I thought Oghren would be the one who needed some lessons in basic manners.”

“I have plenty of manners.  Just don’t like using ‘em when no one’s around.”

“I’m no one?” she teased.

Carver gave her a very gentlemanly bow, looking more formal than she would have ever thought possible in his fancy attire.  “My lady,” he said, and she laughed at the snooty accent he attempted to put on.  He took her hand in one of his and pressed his lips against it, and Aerie blushed a little.

“Made you blush,” he said when he stood up.  He pinched her ass, and she shoved him.


End file.
